


Better Late

by Rhiannon87



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Work and travel and bad weather conspire to keep Nate and Elena apart. Birthday fic for beltsquid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beltsquid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltsquid/gifts).



Nathan Drake: flt cncld prbly wont b home tnt sorry

_Message Received: 2:07 p.m._

 

Elena's had plenty of experience at deciphering Nate's minimalist texts, so she's able to work out what that random string of letters means. She sighs and tosses her phone back onto her desk and then, because there aren’t any witnesses, slumps in her chair, folds her arms, and sulks.

They've been apart three weeks now; she had a story in Hong Kong that ended up keeping her there for nearly two weeks, and midway through her trip, Nate took off to recover some stolen relic for a museum in Sao Paulo. He'd been gone three days by the time she got home, and his job kept getting more and more complicated. Yesterday, he'd finally returned the damn things-- part of the complication was the discovery of a bunch of _other_ stolen relics-- and bought a ticket home. But bad weather in Brazil has kept his plane grounded all day, and apparently the airline has just given up.

Tomorrow, Elena tells herself. He'll be home tomorrow. But the assurance rings hollow. That's what she told herself yesterday, and look how that turned out. She sighs, still frowning, and picks up her phone to send a reply.

 

Elena Fisher: That sucks. Let me know when you've got something else booked. I miss you.

_Message Sent: 2:09 p.m._

 

Her phone buzzes with an answer almost immediately.

 

Nathan Drake: miss u too

_Message Received: 2:09 p.m._

 

Elena gives the phone a faint, fond smile, then sets it aside and turns back to her laptop. She still has work to do. And now she'll have all night to focus on it. She scowls at the article on her screen and goes back to taking notes with no small amount of resentment.

She eats dinner at her computer, and when she can't stand to look at her notes anymore she shuts it down and goes to watch a movie. Halfway through, she finds herself missing Nate's irritated commentary, and she groans and buries her face in a pillow. Most of the time, watching movies with Nate is obnoxious at best and grounds for some truly stupid, pointless arguments at worst. She doesn't actually _like_ his constant comments about what the movie's gotten wrong. She just... misses him. A lot.

Elena finishes the movie, because she's not really tired and it's marginally better than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. She putters around the house for a little while, then trudges off to bed for another night of staring at the empty side of the bed and sighing. She pulls on one of Nate's t-shirts to sleep in-- it's been through the laundry, so it doesn't smell like him, but it makes her feel a little better. And once she's in bed, she pulls his pillow over and hugs it to her chest. Her hope that he'll be home tomorrow is dwindling-- she hasn't heard from him since the afternoon. She'll call him in the morning to see if there are any updates.

It's still dark when she wakes up, and she frowns, her head fuzzy, as she tries to figure out what woke her. There's movement in the bedroom, then the mattress shifts slightly as someone sits down. Some part of her mind must recognize who it is, because she doesn't panic, just twists around to see who it is.

“Hey,” Nate murmurs, smiling at her, and brushes his fingers against her cheek.

Elena blinks at him. “Nate?” she mumbles, still half-asleep. He nods, and then it clicks. He's _home_. “Hi,” she says, beaming at him, and sits up to throw her arms around his neck.

Nate sighs and hugs her back. “Hi.”

He's warm and he smells like airports and hotel soap and right now, he's _perfect_. Elena hums happily and presses her face against his shoulder. “What time is it?” she asks.

“One-thirty-ish,” Nate says.

She tries to do the math in her head, then gives up. “Thought you weren't gonna be home 'til tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he replies, rubbing a hand up and down her back. Elena inches closer to him. “I managed to talk my way onto another flight, but there was a lot of running involved. Wasn't sure if I was gonna make it, and I didn't want to text you and get your hopes up if I missed it.”

That makes sense. “We're not allowed to do this again,” she says. “Three weeks is way too long.”

“Yeah.” Nate nods and tightens his arms around her. Elena decides that the awkward angles they’re both twisted at aren’t working. She shifts over to straddle his legs, then twines her arms around him again. Nate chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. “I need to go shower,” he says after a few moments.

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You smell fine.” Elena buries her face in his neck for emphasis.

He laughs. “Thanks, but I _feel_ gross.”

Elena sighs. She usually wants to shower after long flights, too. “Fine,” she agrees reluctantly, but doesn’t move to disentangle herself from him. “In a minute.”

“Okay.” Nate buries his face in her hair. “God, I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.”

They sit like that for a few minutes, just holding each other, then Nate lets out a heavy sigh and reaches up to start prying Elena’s arms off him. She lets go and tries not to pout as she rolls back onto the bed. “Five minutes,” Nate says, toeing off his shoes.

“Okay.”

Nate leaves his clothes in a pile on the floor and disappears into the bathroom. Elena puts his pillow back on his side of the bed and glances around the room, tapping her fingers on the mattress. About thirty seconds after she hears the shower start, she bounces to her feet and heads into the bathroom herself. She hops up to sit on the counter and raises her voice slightly to be heard over the water. “So how did things go with the museum?” she asks.

Nate yelps in surprise and pokes his head around the edge of the shower curtain. “What’re you--”

Elena shrugs. “I’m not going back to sleep now,” she says. “And I’m not going to be interested in talking once you’re in bed.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Good point,” he says and ducks back into the shower. “It went fine. They were very grateful that I went to all the trouble of bringing back the rest of the artifacts.”

“Did that gratitude translate into payment of some kind?” Elena asks. Her job pays enough to cover the normal expenses, groceries and mortgage and plane tickets, but they tend to rely on Nate’s sporadic income for big purchases or paying off loans or padding out the savings account. In a year, they usually end up making about the same amount; the difference is that Elena gets paid every two weeks, while Nate might go three months without earning a dime and then get huge payout.

“Yep,” Nate says brightly. “About eight thousand left, after exchange rates and paying to smuggle a briefcase full of cash through customs.”

She lets out an impressed whistle. “Nice.” Elena swings her feet back and forth a bit, then covers her mouth to stifle a yawn. She _is_ tired, but right now, spending time with Nate trumps sleep. Besides, it’s not like she’s going anywhere tomorrow. They can sleep in.

“What about you, how’d your story go?” he asks.

“Not as well as I’d have liked,” she says. Then again, an investigative journalist looking into crackdowns on other journalists seemed sort of doomed from the start. She’d made a little progress, met with plenty of local reporters and activists, but it didn’t take long for her to pick up a government minder. That curtailed her investigation, and even with the extension from the network, she wasn’t able to make much headway. She did leave with some valuable connections among the activists, and maybe next time she goes, she’ll have more luck.

She finishes explaining just as Nate shuts off the water. Elena watches as he towels off, her focus more on looking for bruises or fresh scars rather than ogling him-- although she'd be lying if she said she wasn't doing that, too. There are a few bruises on his arms, but they're faded, probably a few days old already. Nothing to worry about.

Nate notices her staring and grins. “Enjoying the view?”

“Mm.” Elena slides off the counter and steps over to him, wraps her arms around his waist. “It is pretty nice.” He chuckles and leans down to kiss her; she returns the kiss eagerly, nips at his lower lip when they finally part. “C'mon,” she murmurs, taking his hands in hers. “Bed.”


End file.
